Hoping in future that thou, in thy love,
Wilt strengthen the feeble and guide them above.
While my heart sends to thee its own bright, crimson tide,
Freighted with sustenance, ruby and warm,
I bear all thy sorrows, nor seek to divide,
With my own hidden darling, the chill of the storm.
Thus I shield thee, my loved one, by night and by day;
For thee do I suffer and for thee do I pray.
My heart hovers o’er the calm place of thy rest;
I’m waiting to pillow thy head on my breast.